


the sacrament

by suchasoftersin



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:07:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchasoftersin/pseuds/suchasoftersin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he doesn't know why he was saved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sacrament

He doesn’t know why he was saved.

Xavier doesn’t know how it happened, he doesn’t understand, but he knows that it’s all he can believe in because it’s all he has anymore. It’s how life has always been for him, it’s how things are supposed to be. They tell him he’s a miracle, a saint, they say that he’s special and he’s blessed. They say he’s a messenger to God placed on Earth and that he has duties, things that he’s supposed to do since birth.

He remembers growing up in the church, remembers the way they would follow him with their eyes, the rules he had to follow. The rest of the children would wiggle in their seats and play on the floor while he had to sit in the front, had to repeat words that they fed him every day. He remembers being told no, he mustn’t act like the rest of the children because even if he was only born a decade ago, his soul was wiser. He believed them because they were right, they were always right, and he was saved to do this job and he has to save others as well. Still, though, he wished he knew what it was like to play outside in the grass.

When he was seventeen - it’s not like years matter for him, anyway, they don’t celebrate those kinds of things here - a man had come into the church. He was tall and he wore black leather, a mop of curls and facial hair to match. He took off his dark glasses and he looked around, eyes curious, until his eyes fell on Xavier in the front. Xavier was sitting right under the cross, the red and blue light from the stained-glass windows just barely reaching his feet on the carpet. He’s in white robes - white, always white - and his feet are bare because he didn’t need protection here, nothing could hurt him here. The man didn’t move closer, just watched him from the distance, and even though Xavier was used to attention like this, this gaze made him anxious.

“May I help you, brother?” Xavier asks, his voice smooth even though he hasn’t spoken in ages. The man starts to take small steps forward now, his eyes never waver from Xavier, and he almost looks curious - Xavier’s used to that, too. It’s silent, only the sounds of the man’s boots and Xavier can hear his own breathing in his ears, until the man reaches the few steps in front of him and stops. He looks up and Xavier looks down from his spot, the angle purposely giving him the added height. Xavier feels uneasy and he tries once again to get the man to speak his wishes, “I could bless you, brother. Just tell me what ails you and-“

“I’m not your brother.” Xavier stops speaking, closes his mouth, because he has no way to answer to that. Not every person who visits his church is kind, people have cursed him and thrown things, but this man seems different. He doesn’t seem angry or sad, he doesn’t seem to want to cause Xavier pain like the others. The corner of the man’s mouth quirks and Xavier flexes his fingers into a fist and loosens it again, watching. “They say you’re a saint but you don’t look any different to me.” Again, Xavier doesn’t speak because no words come; he’s not used to speaking for himself, really, he speaks for God. The man shifts his weight to his left and Xavier’s eyes follow the movement before he speaks again, “why are you here?”

That’s one answer that Xavier does have and he’s quick to answer, “God put me here to-“

“No,” the man interrupts him and Xavier stops mid-sentence, “I don’t want you to tell me what you’ve been told. I want a real answer.” Xavier closes his mouth and it feels dry now, empty, and the man continues, “now I’ll ask again: why are you here?”

Xavier struggles to find words but it doesn’t show on his face, he knows how to mask his thoughts. His eyes are on the man but he can’t see him anymore, he’s searching through his thoughts, his memories, for some kind of answer. Why is he here? Why is he here? Why is he here? “I don’t…know.” The man doesn’t say anything, then, but he slips his sunglasses back on before he nods to Xavier and then he turns and leaves. Xavier feels like a hole has just been made in his mask and he’s not sure of anything anymore, even the things they tell him.


End file.
